


Blue-eyed Monster Called Caffrey (or was it Larkin?)

by ifdragonscouldtalk



Category: Chuck (TV), White Collar
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, On Hiatus, Season/Series 02, There's so many emotions in this, before everything goes to shit for everyone lmao, for both white collar and chuck, lots of fluff between chuck and sarah, lots of guilty chuck, lots of trusting peter and neal, the first half of season 2 for both shows, warning for someone getting shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifdragonscouldtalk/pseuds/ifdragonscouldtalk
Summary: To some Neal may have looked calm, to others perhaps nervous, but to Peter, he looked scared, his hands up in surrender once more against the heavy press of a gun on the base of his skull. Maybe he was projecting a little bit.Maybe he was projecting a lot, because Peter was terrified, his heart flying panicked in his chest, as he watched Neal hold a gun to his own head, or someone who looked so much like Neal it made him question everything he knew and consider calling Mozzie to talk about cloning practices.Or, the one where Bryce drags Neal and Peter into something too big for all of them under incorrect assumptions, Peter and Neal show a trust deeper than can be understood, Chuck desperately tries to do the right thing even as things are pulling him in every direction, and Sarah and Casey just want to go home where it's safer.----------------------------------------On hold for the foreseeable future, apologies





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first foray into Chuck and White Collar, but I couldn't get this little scene out of my head. I've already got two more chapters written, but I wanted to see what sort of reaction I would get to the first one! I'm going to try and let your suggestions and comments sort of lead where this story is going to go, even though I have a general overview of how it's going to be. This is going to be a pretty long one, although I couldn't tell you how long, so buckle up! I haven't been this excited about writing something in awhile. 
> 
> Please make sure to read the tags, which I will continue to update, and notes at the beginning of chapters for warnings. Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and I try to respond to every comment, so rant at me if you want haha! Thanks for giving this a shot.

“And of course El came running to- Neal are you even listening?” 

“Mhm, yeah.” Peter stared at Neal, blinking at the blatant lie until the conman glanced over at him and did a double take. “Hey man, keep talking. I think something’s going down, act normal.” 

“What?” Peter hissed, his hand automatically going to his sidearm. “What did you see?” Neal put on a smile and laughed like Peter had said something funny, rubbing his nose and subtly pointing in the direction of three people standing next to a van. 

“Those two are carrying. You can see hers when her jacket lifts up.” Peter glanced over, just for a moment. They had paused in their walking, a couple yards away from the three, far enough to not be heard but still be noticed if they stood too long. He caught sight of the butt of a gun under the jacket of the tall blonde woman, and saw the lanky man jerk back and slam into the side of the van as the other man, strong and screaming of military, growled something at him. 

“Neal,” he sighed, “they could have permits. It’s legal in New York.” 

“Yeah,” Neal whispered back, “but they’re also standing next to a van and threatening that guy. Either they’re also law enforcement, or there’s an exchange happening.” Peter opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it. Neal had a point. “Look, I think that kid might be in trouble,” Neal said, leaning closer to pick some imaginary lint off of Peter’s shoulder. “Back me up.” 

“No, Neal no-” Peter started, but Neal was already walking away. “Damn it!” 

He watched Neal run his fingers through his hair, messing it up quickly before he bumped into the woman and slipped the gun out of her waistband, apologizing profusely. The woman turned, twisting Neal’s wrist and making him drop the weapon back into her outstretched hand, as the military guy turned and pulled his own gun. “Whoa, whoa,” Neal said nervously, backing away with his arms up in surrender. 

“FBI drop your weapons!” Peter shouted as he pulled his own gun, at the same time the woman gasped “Bryce?” and the kid let out a little choked sound. Peter glanced at Neal, meeting his shocked and confused eyes with his own. “Drop, your weapons,” he repeated slowly. 

“You first,” the military man growled. 

“Casey!” the kid cried. “They’re FBI!” 

“Look,” the woman said, “we’re all on the same team here. I’m CIA, Casey is NSA. I’m going to put my gun down, and then I’m going to pull out my credentials, okay?” 

“I say we just shoot ‘em. We can’t trust they are who they say they are.” 

“Casey!” the kid cried again, this time with more panic. 

“Casey stop,” the woman said calmly as she slowly lowered her gun to the ground. Peter kept his weapon steady as she reached inside her jacket and pulled out a leather wallet, carefully handing it to Peter. He glanced at it -- Sarah Walker -- before tossing it to Neal, who caught it and flipped it open, squinting at it. 

“It looks legit, Peter,” Neal said after a few minutes, glancing up at Sarah and Casey. “Of course, I’d be better able to tell if I had some equipment, but if it’s a forge it’s high quality.” Peter glanced over as Neal tossed the ID back to Sarah, who caught it out of the air with a nod. He hesitated a moment before lowering his gun and holstering it, watching as Sarah hit Casey in the arm before he did the same with a scowl. 

“See, we’re all friends here,” Neal said with a disarming smile, but Peter could tell he was a bit rattled. Sarah had been able to sense his lift, and he’d mistaken agents for druggies, or something worse. Although, Peter had backed him. 

“Yeah, friends,” the other guy, still unidentified, said shakily. He stepped forward. “Bryce, what are you doing here?” 

“He’s undercover, you idiot!” Casey growled as he shoved the taller man, making him stumble. 

‘Undercover?’ Peter mouthed to Neal, meeting his confused eyes. The conman shrugged, mouthing back ‘Bryce?’ 

“Could you excuse us for a second,” Peter said as he grabbed Neal’s arm and led him a short distance away. 

“Peter, I swear I don’t know them or what they’re talking about,” Neal started as soon as they were out of earshot, voice lowered. 

“You don’t know this Bryce?” 

“No. C’mon Peter, you know I go for the inconspicuous names. You think ‘Bryce’ is inconspicuous?” 

“You sent me cards addressed from ‘James Bonds’.” 

“Okay, fair, but I was never a Bryce. I’ve never met those people, not on a case, not on a con. I don’t know what they’re talking about.” Peter glanced over at the three to see they were having their own little pow-wow. 

“Alright, I believe you.” He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “Let’s just apologize for taking Agent Walker’s gun and get to the office, alright? We’re going to miss our meeting with the witness.” 

“Yeah, about lifting her gun-” 

“We will talk about  _ that _ later.” He gave a look that told Neal they would in fact be coming back to the admonishing before walking back over to the three with his face the perfect picture of apology. Sarah stepped forward, smiling at them, and Neal grinned back, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. 

“We’re sorry for the confusion, Agents,” Peter said, and Sarah waved him off. 

“It’s no trouble. I’d just like to know,” she turned to Neal, “why did you lift my gun?” Neal smiled charmingly. 

“Well you have to admit, a gorgeous armed woman and a muscle man next to a van on a New York street doesn’t look great. Although now that I know you’re agents -- surveillance?” 

“You could say that,” Casey muttered. Sarah shot a glance at him. 

“Well, we have to get back to the office-”

“I have a better plan.” It sounded like Neal, but it wasn’t. Peter could tell it wasn’t. It wasn’t even Neal playing a con. The still unnamed kid made a wounded noise and Sarah and Casey’s guns made a reappearance as Peter whipped around. To some Neal may have looked calm, to others perhaps nervous, but to Peter, he looked scared, his hands up in surrender once more against the heavy press of a gun on the base of his skull. Maybe he was projecting a little bit. 

Maybe he was projecting a lot, because Peter was terrified, his heart flying panicked in his chest, as he watched Neal hold a gun to  _ his own _ head, or someone who looked so much like Neal it made him question everything he knew and consider calling Mozzie to talk about cloning practices. As it was he didn’t have the mental capacity to react to the new development, a feeling which was new to him. Neal was staring at him, wide eyes waiting for him to make a move, to get them out of this mess the conman had inevitably gotten them into, but he didn’t have the first clue as to how to do that. 

“Bryce?” the kid said, more cautiously this time, his voice shaking slightly. Neal-with-the-gun’s eyes flicked to him, while Neal took in the situation. Three guns -- had he broken his FBI record? He’d had more firepower aimed at him before, but not since he’d been with the Bureau, he thought. Peter tried to keep him out of messes like that. Except for that time he’d gotten kidnapped and forced to run a con. Fun times. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what had everyone so shaken, but he could guess, based on context. And he could guess this really wasn’t a position he wanted to be in. 

“Bryce, what’s going on?” Agent Walker demanded, shifting on her feet. 

“I think you can come to the correct conclusions, Sarah. C’mon, think!” 

“Uh, I’m not coming to any conclusions. Could I get some help?” Neal spoke up, probably unwisely, flicking his eyes over his shoulder without moving his head -- he couldn’t see anything of who behind him, so it didn’t matter, but he could see Peter’s mouth drop open in shock and the urge to scold. 

“Shut up!” Bryce said harshly, shoving his head forward with the gun, and Peter made an aborted sound that make Neal finally start to panic. Peter didn’t know what to do any more than he did, and it’s not like they could just call for backup. They were only walking to work, for God’s sake! 

“Bryce, I really don’t think there’s any need for violence here, we don’t even know-”

“Shut up, Chuck,” Agent Casey growled. Neal met Chuck’s eyes, letting his mask slip away slightly to show his true panic and confusion. 

“I honestly don’t know what’s happening,” he said, only years of practice keeping his voice calm. He could get them out of this -- or, get Peter out of this. Whichever came first. 

Something must have shown in Bryce’s face because Peter took a step forward and Chuck started shouting. “Wait wait wait wait wait! Bryce, we aren’t vigilanties, okay, you know that. You’re not a rogue agent, which means you can’t just  _ kill _ people!” 

“Technically, if I kill myself, it’s suicide,” a calm voice from behind him said, and he took a second to gather his thoughts, glancing at Peter in question. He got a small nod in response, and widened his eyes slightly, to which he got a head-shake. Well, at least to Peter’s knowledge, Mozzie’s conspiracy theories had no basis in reality. 

“Hey,” Neal started, shifting slightly but stopping when he felt the gun press harder against the base of his skull. “Alright, alright! I’m not moving! Hey, man, haven’t you ever heard that there’s at least 5 look-alikes in the world for you? I’m not sure what you think I am, but don’t do anything you’ll regret.” 

“Bryce, put the gun down,” Sarah said, and Neal was gratified and a little relieved to see she was now pointing her gun over his shoulder, instead of at his chest. “We have to talk about this first. Chuck’s right, we can’t just kill them, even if they are Fulcrum. We don’t have any evidence they’ve committed a crime.” 

“Fulcrum?” Peter asked, his voice remarkably rough, and Neal gave him a once over. Both of them were holding up about as well as expected, he supposed. Agent Casey gritted his teeth before lowering his gun, but didn’t put it away. 

“Larkin, stop. Let’s call this in, deal with this the right way.” 

“Oh, like you did when you shot me, Agent Casey?” There was an edge of venom in his voice, but Neal thought someone who didn’t know himself as well as he did wouldn’t have noticed. Except Peter, who recognized the tone, too much time spent undercover with him, and paled. To be fair, Bryce Larkin sounded remarkably unhinged. Neal’s shoulders hurt from the tension he was holding, and his arms were unhappy with the prolonged position they were in. Casey bared his teeth and Chuck pushed in front of him, nervous and clearly trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Bryce, buddy, c’mon. I really,” he paused, swallowing, “I really,  _ really _ don’t want to see someone with your face shot. Can we just, just take a moment here? We don’t even know their names.” 

“I’ll tell you if you take the gun away from my skull,” Neal offered, licking his lips and meeting Chuck’s eyes. He seemed the most reasonable and well balanced of the group. The fact that he was also the only other person not in possession of a firearm was a nice bonus. He glanced around the street, wondering how the hell no one had interfered or called the cops yet, but it was remarkably and uncharacteristically empty for morning in Manhattan. There was a moment of hesitation in which Chuck grew increasingly pale before the cold pressure at the back of his head stopped. He waited until Agent Walker lowered her gun as well before running over to Peter, grabbing his gun out of his holster and pointing it at this Bryce Larkin, finally getting a good look at him. He almost dropped the gun. 

Peter was hissing in his ear, and Casey was shouting, but he and Bryce stared at each other, cold blue against cold blue, gun against gun. 

“Are we under arrest?” Neal asked. 

“No,” Sarah said, at the same time Bryce said “Yes!” 

“Do you have proof a crime has been committed?” Peter said with a frown, but didn’t try to take back the gun. Neal needed it, to keep his hands from shaking, to keep him grounded. Normally a gun would do the opposite for him, but this wasn’t exactly a normal situation. Sarah, Casey, and Chuck looked at Bryce expectantly, who glanced at them before swearing and lowering his gun. 

“You don’t have proof?” Casey growled, taking a step towards Larkin angrily. Cautiously, Neal lowered Peter’s gun, and Peter took it back, hissing “ _ Don’t _ do that again, Caffrey.” 

“Ask them about a guy named Fowler.” Bryce seemed much more clear-headed. 

“Larkin-”

“Uh, there’s a much easier way to get proof?” Chuck said nervously, raising his hand slightly. Sarah grabbed his wrist and pulled it down. He looked at her. “I mean, they could just tell me their names. I’d be able to tell if they were Fulcrum, right? It’d be in the-” He cut off suddenly his eyes widening. 

“Well, aren’t you an idiot?” Casey said with a sick parody of a smile. 

“Casey,” Sarah chastised. “You’re right Chuck. Can you two tell us your names?” Peter and Neal glanced at each other. Peter shrugged, and Neal frowned. 

“Peter Burke, FBI. This is my CI, Neal Caffrey.” 

“International forger, conman, and art thief extraordinaire. Allegedly,” Neal flashed a winning smile, but it was fake and angry. “Hey, is he having a seizure?” He looked at Chuck in concern as the kid’s eyes rolled back and fluttered. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was scary, and he came back gasping. 

“They are Fulcrum!” Bryce’s gun made a reappearance, and Neal glared at him. 

“Hey man, not cool, your friend needs a hospital or something.” 

“No no, Bryce, no! They’re not Fulcrum! Neal Caffrey was convicted of bond forgery and suspected of dozens of other crimes, but that’s all they could get him on. He’s been seen with violent types but always dropped out once he realized what was happening. He doesn’t like guns. He was under FBI White Collar jurisdiction, Agent Peter Burke chased him for nearly four years. Three months before the end of his four year sentence he broke out, and then made a deal with Agent Burke to be his CI.” Neal stepped back, narrowing his eyes at Chuck. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

“There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with him,” Sarah insisted, before turning to Casey and hissing something at him. 

“Are we free to go?” Peter said wearily, although Neal could feel him tensed tighter than a spring. 

“No,” Bryce said. “Yes,” Casey and Sarah insisted. “Uh, guys?” Chuck whimpered. “Neal!” Peter shouted. 

It felt very fast, and very slow at the same time, as Casey shoved Bryce to the ground and Neal choked out a gasp, the air forced out of him. He could already feel the stickiness of his shirt as his legs collapsed under him. Peter managed to get a hand around him and turned it into a controlled fall as Neal desperately tried to stem the blood flow from the shot in his stomach, letting out a small whimper as he touched it. 

“Peter?” 

“Call an ambulance.” Peter felt remarkably calm, compared to how he had felt five minutes ago. “And I want Bryce Larkin handcuffed and taken to the FBI for questioning.” 

“You can’t do that!” 

“Bryce,” Sarah said as she dialed her phone. “What did you do?” 

Casey got too much enjoyment out of flipping Bryce Larkin over and cuffing him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Bryce was protesting loudly, but it fell on deaf ears. Neal’s hands were shaking when Peter pulled them away and pressed his sloppily folded suit coat against the wound instead, making Neal cry out in pain. Sarah was rattling the situation off to emergency services, both her and Chuck dropping to their knees next to Neal. Chuck was pale and let out a soft whimper, glancing between Neal and Bryce before focusing on the injured of the two. 

“What do I do?” he asked, and Peter was surprised that he seemed mostly steady. 

“He shot me!” Neal finally said, staring down at the growing stain and aware he wasn’t running on all cylinders. 

“No, there was a sniper somewhere,” Peter replied calmly, helping Sarah position Chuck’s hands so he could take over pressure on the wound and watching him wince when Neal cried out again. “He wanted both you and Bryce. I don’t know what you got yourself into, Neal.” 

“I h-haven’t been doing anything, Peter, I swear-”

“I believe you. We’re going to let them believe we think Bryce shot you, and we’re going to figure this out.” Sarah was positioning herself under Neal, lifting him slightly to elevate his head and shoulders off the ground and rest them in her lap. Chuck made a face in distaste but didn’t say anything, focusing intensely on keeping steady pressure and not throwing up all over the wounded man. Peter looked up at Sarah. “Can we get the CIA and NSA’s help on this? I’m going to assume you want that, despite inter-agency politics.” 

“Of course,” Sarah said with a nod. “But let’s just focus on Neal first. How are you Neal?” 

“That’s my blood,” Neal answered numbly, staring at Peter’s hands. Peter and Sarah exchanged a glance.

“Yeah, buddy, it is, but you’re going to be fine.” 

“It’s supposed to be  _ in _ me, Peter, not  _ out _ of me!” 

“Calm down,” Sarah ordered, laying a hand on Neal’s shoulder. “The ETA for the ambulance is seven minutes, it’s a stomach wound but there’s not enough blood for it to have hit an artery and if there were any imminent danger due to organ damage you wouldn’t be talking to us right now. You’re going to be okay, Neal, but we need you to stay calm.” Neal nodded and relaxed slightly but still looked terrified and pained, his breathing labored as every shift of muscles shot agony through his core. Tears had gathered in his eyes and he was scared to let them fall, but soon he might not have a choice. 

“Peter?” His voice came out more choked than he wanted it to. Bryce had fallen silent, observing their interactions. Neal didn’t really want him anywhere near him or Peter, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter as Agent Casey yanked him up and pulled him over to the growing stain of blood on the sidewalk. 

“How’s he doing?” Sarah glanced up at her partner, and from what Neal could see of her face, he gathered ‘ _ not good _ ’. He was terrified, and everything hurt, especially when Peter lifted him slightly and slid a hand under his back. He cried out, focusing on Peter’s face with blurry vision, scared by what he saw. 

“No exit wound,” Peter declared, his face grim and pinched. Neal’s breath hitched, and it hurt to try and regulate it again. 

“Peter? Peter-” Peter grabbed Neal’s hand, squeezing it tightly and meeting his eyes firmly. 

“Neal, stop. I know what you’re going to say. I’m not going to lie and say you’re fine, but you’re not as bad as you could be. It’s going to be okay.” Neal hesitated but nodded, knowing Peter could feel the fine tremors in his hand. “You just stay with us.” He didn’t even realize his eyes had started glazing over, black spots dancing around his vision, until Peter said something. He made an effort to blink the darkness away, shaking his head slightly and focusing on Agent Walker’s hands running through his hair, the fiery agony of Chuck pressing on his abdomen, and Peter’s face. 

He didn’t think he succeeded, as he faded away like the end of a bad romance movie to the sound of sirens. 

Chuck stared down at his hands, something within him refusing to settle. They were clean now, but there was still blood around his cuticles, at the edges of his shirt-sleeves. He never wanted to see another person go through that, especially not someone who looks so shockingly like Bryce it was like being dunked in cold water. 

FBI Agent Peter Burke hadn’t stopped pacing, or gotten off the phone, since they had arrived at the hospital. He looked angry, but Chuck thought that was maybe how he displayed his worry. He looked up as Sarah sat down next to him and took one of his hands, giving him a soft smile that never failed to make him melt a little inside. 

“You did good,” she said softly, kindly, and he wished she was his so he could lean over and pour his worries onto her stronger shoulders. “He’s going to be fine, because of you.” 

“He was shot because of us.” 

“You don’t know that,” Casey said gruffly from his other side, glancing up from his phone. 

“What, you think some guy who looks exactly like Bryce Larkin gets shot while talking to us and it’s  _ not _ our fault?” One outburst and Chuck already felt exhausted, glancing up at Peter, who was apparently coordinating an investigation and trying very hard to convince the person on the other end of the line that Bryce, who they had in custody, wasn’t Neal, who was in surgery. “We have to tell them what they’ve stumbled into, we can’t just leave them in the dark,” he said, softer, looking at Sarah for help. Her facade crumbled slightly, like it always did when she knew he was right but had to stick to someone else’s plan. 

“You know we can’t,” she replied, squeezing his hand. 

“They’re investigating, Sarah. If they don’t know what they’re walking into, they’re going to get themselves killed.” 

“Then let them.” 

“Casey, you can’t just say that!” 

“How many times do we have to pound it into your thick head that you’re the  _ Intersect _ ? No one can know about you.” 

“Bryce does,” Chuck said grimly. “And it almost got an innocent man killed.” Casey snorted. 

“‘Innocent.’ Like he’s not a convicted felon and didn’t take Walker’s gun.” 

“He was in non-violent white collar crimes, and he thought you were threatening Chuck,” Peter burst in, glaring at Casey. Casey glared back before letting his eyes drop, giving it over to the agent. Chuck swallowed, and he almost wanted to cry at how kind the stranger had been to him, to walk into a potentially dangerous situation (for all Neal knew) just to help him out. It was different than Bryce, and yet so strikingly familiar it had him choking on emotions. Sarah had a look on her face that said she was feeling something along the same lines. 

“Caffrey?” 

Peter whirled around, hanging up on whoever was on the other end and walking over to the doctor. Chuck glanced at Sarah before standing, releasing her hand and quietly following Peter, wanting to know how the conman was doing. 

“-my CI and I’m listed as his emergency contact,” Peter was saying, and the doctor nodded. 

“Well, we managed to remove the bullet. Miraculously, it didn’t do any very serious damage. We repaired what damage there was and gave him a liter of blood to replace what he lost. We’ll keep him for a day or two in case of complications, but I don’t expect any to arise. He’ll be in quite a bit of pain for awhile, and won’t be able to do anything strenuous, but he can probably return to desk work next week sometime, if nothing comes up. We’ll give him some low-grade painkillers to help with the worst of the pain.” 

Peter looked like he was about to collapse in relief. “Thank  _ God _ . Lady Luck always did like him.” The doctor smiled kindly. 

“He’s in recovery now, he’ll be moved into a room soon, and then a nurse will come out to let you see him. He probably won’t wake up for an hour or so because of the anesthesia.” 

“Thank you.”


End file.
